Surviving in an Economic Downturn
by MaryNotAmy
Summary: The recession has hit everywhere, and now its a matter of dusting off and finding their way to becoming the people they want to be. E/S AU/AH
1. Sookie

A/N: I've been toying with the idea of writing about how different TB characters are affected by the economic downturn. I made this AU and AH, because it worked with the stories I wanted to tell. Maybe one day I'll write about vampires and the global economy instead.

I started on this idea because I was thinking of how someone like Sookie might react to getting fired, or having to move back home. It's hard not to get your feeling of self worth tied up into job applications and how your life is turned out, especially if you are already worrying about money and unhappy about your body(ok, that is more a book Sookie issue). As strong as Sookie is, I see her as a character with the potential for a lot of self doubt.

I hadn't planned on writing in this style of narration when I set out, but they definitely took on a life of their own. These should be treated as a series of one-shots. I don't know how many I'll do, so if you have any character requests, let me know!

* * *

Sometimes she was convinced that the world was just out to toy with her life.

Sookie glanced over at the free weights area of the gym, as she upped the speed on the treadmill to 7 mph. Alcide was finishing another set of bench presses, each upward movement accompanied by a heavy grunt. As he sat up, sweat dripped down his face. He caught her staring and gave her a wink.

As if it was even possible, Sookie felt her face flush even more. She increased speed to 8 mph.

Debbie, Alcide's number one groupie, girlfriend and the gym's number one skank, pranced up to him to give him a kiss. Sookie looked jealously at the other woman: wearing a bright pink sports bra, and tight shorts, her thin and lithe body seemed made for a fitness magazine. Sookie's baggy t-shirt and Wal-Mart leggings felt dowdy by comparison.

Sookie increased speed to 10 mph, feeling her legs start to fail her. 30 more seconds, she pushed herself. Just 30 more seconds, and she could slow down.

Sookie had nothing against the gym's most attention grabbing couple, despite the twist in her stomach every time she saw them. In fact, when she had started coming, she had actually enjoyed Debbie's random locker room chatter, or her sarcastic comments during classes. For a while, she had thought she might become an unlikely friend with Debbie.

She had met Alcide a few weeks ago. The gym had been offering free CrossFit classes on a trial basis, and Tara had raved about the weight loss benefits. The group that turned up had been small: just her, Alcide, and an older guy named Mike. Alcide was cute, sweet, and while he was a bit of a workout junkie, she found herself making sure to go to the next couple of classes just to see him.

Debbie had spotted them one evening, as the class was finishing. Alcide and Sookie had been laughing so hard it hurt to breathe because of the ridiculousness of the exercises that they had been doing. With swift, determined steps, Debbie had marched up to Alcide, given him an R-rated kiss, and told him it was time to wash the dirt off. She looked pointedly at Sookie.

Sookie had gotten the message loud and clear.

Grabbing onto the side handle bars of the treadmill, she lifted herself onto the sides, and turned down the speed to a leisurely 3.5 mph. Breathing hard, she glanced back over at Alcide and Debbie. He was guiding her form as she was doing triceps curls. For a moment, watching them hurt. Not because of her former crush on Alcide, or lost a potential friendship with Debbie. It hurt because she could still feel Bill next to her, when they had worked out together. When they were still together.

_You can't trust him_, she reminded herself. _It ended for a reason._

She grabbed her towel, and wiped her sweaty face, telling herself that when she got in better shape, her workouts wouldn't exhaust her as much. As she walked towards the changing rooms, her iPod changed to a song she didn't like, and she avoided looking at reflective surfaces. She knew that she looked like a beetroot after working out. Bill had confirmed it multiple times. Right now, she didn't feel like being reminded off it.

Taking a quick shower, she changed into blissfully clean and cool clothes. A nice v neck t shirt and a flouncy skirt that even had hidden pockets. Not her best outfit, but it worked. At times like this, she missed her old apartment in Atlanta, with the basement gym. She could work out, then take a nice long shower in her own bathroom. Back then, she didn't have to navigate the awkwardness of changing in front of girls who looked more like New York models than Louisiana everyday people. But that old apartment required rent, which was hard to afford without a job.

Economic downturn 1 - Sookie 0.

She changed into her sandals, swung her gym bag over one shoulder, her laptop bag over the other, and put her iPod to a new podcast episode before heading out. She avoided looking over at the free weights, but could hear Alcide's grunts nonetheless.

_Screw it. Screw it all_, she thought bitterly, smiling a fake smile at the attendant at the front desk.

The gym visits were really Jason's doing - he was a member, and had managed to flirt one of the sales representatives, a cute, petite brunette, into giving him 9 months free, and enough guest passes to last... well... a long, _long_ time.

If someone had told her in high school that Jason would have a good job, a nice apartment, a steady girlfriend, and that Sookie would be practically jobless and living with her grandmother, she wouldn't have believed them. But, the fates had smiled on Jason, and he was becoming a better person for it. He had gotten a lucky break working for the parish road crew. Promoted to be a regional road inspection officer, and based in Shreveport. He started drinking less, took online classes, and even read stories to sick children at the local hospital. Well, his girlfriend said he did.

Jason had even become an even better brother and grandson. When he heard that their Gran and Sookie were getting testy being around each other so much, he started inviting Sookie to stay with him in Shreveport for weekends, or during the week, or random times. He always claimed that her cooking was why he wanted her there. Sookie knew it was a bald faced lie, since he'd go over and stay with Crystal and leave the apartment to her, but she appreciated it nonetheless. It was hard to be jealous of him, when he was this nice.

The truth was, she would have probably have gone crazy spending more time with her Gran. She loved her Gran, she really did. And she would be eternally grateful for Gran taking her back in after she lost her job. But it was hard adjusting to being back under Gran's roof. There was always something that needed fixing with the house. Gran didn't have internet. Gran's friends were always coming by, which inevitably meant a couple of hours of sitting politely with them. Gran was always finding things to "help" her in the job search, but her finds usually consisted of nice young men who wanted to date Sookie for her boobs, or cashiers jobs at drugs stores. The one small source of income Sookie had, her job at Merlotte's, paid barely anything, and left her tired and cranky. By the end of her shifts, she just didn't have the energy to listen to Gran's gossip anymore, or help clean the house. Sookie didn't want to ruin her relationship with her grandmother, and tried as best she could. But she was a different person than she was in high school, and she didn't want to change back. The situation just wasn't working.

After leaving her gym bag in her car, Sookie decided to walk the half mile to the coffee shop, her laptop bag slung across her body. The sun was beginning the beat down hard, and Sookie could see the heat rising from the asphalt. The shower at the gym was starting to feel pointless. Maybe she'd get an ice coffee today, a special treat. She mentally calculated how much she had left on the gift card Lafayette had giving her for her birthday. If she got a small drink, she could even get one of the day old pastries.

Bill would have chided her for having a pastry after working out. His sustenance of choice was one of those awful protein shakes. She had tried them, and every time felt like retching. Even the flavored ones tasted mostly like liquid cardboard to her, and the fake sugars made her gassy. He would counter that, as a man, he did prefer women to have a certain shape, and that she was dangerously close to being fat. A shake now and then, he used to say, would help her become more lean and beautiful.

_Bill can take his shakes and opinions and find a dark hole_, she thought to herself. She was could have a pastry, damn it.

The coffee shop was blissfully air conditioned, and she felt her whole body relax as she strode up to the counter to place her order. The owner had modeled the place on Brooklyn coffee shops and cafes, with exposed brickwork, blackboard painted walls, and quirky fedoras on all of the employees. The coffee was definitely better than anything else around, and everyone who worked there always seemed happy and genuinely excited to work there. Much friendlier than at Merlottes. Unfortunately, this place wasn't hiring - Sookie had asked enough times to know. Plus, the real reason Sookie came was for the free wifi.

Her favorite seat, on a long couch bench with a close power outlet, was open. Picking up her order: a small iced coffee with lemon pound cake, she sat down and started up her computer. The four year old dell creaked to life. The soft music in the background and low din of people was comforting, letting her mind finally slow down a bit. The knot in her stomach, a constant companion in her life these days, lessened a little bit. For the next couple hours, she could pretend that she wasn't Sookie Stackhouse, fired failure, and was someone else. A writer. A businesswoman. Someone who had a handle on their life.

Her email had five unread messages. Three were newsletters, which she glanced over before deleting. One was from Tara, sending a link for a cute J Crew dress. "You'd look great in this!" the message read, and Sookie had to agree. The dress was perfect for her. And on sale. But $143 was still more than Sookie could afford, even if she had a job. Who the hell could just spend $143 on a dress? That was enough money for food for a month or two.

The next email was another rejection letter. "We were impressed by your qualifications and enthusiasm, but regret that we will not be able to offer you the position of..." Sookie skimmed the message, her eyes not daring to settle on any one part of it. 143 rejections, and each new one still hurt. She had hoped that she would have at least gotten a real interview. She had been more than qualified for the job.

She opened her tracking spreadsheet, marking another x in one of the columns.

She had always known that she needed to be prepared for the economy going bad. In college, she had worked hard to double major in psychology and economics, hoping that it would give her an added edge. She worked every campus job she could get, and worked overtime at Merlottes. After college, her job out in Atlanta had been perfect: a junior research assistant for the venture strategies consultancy, her job had been to help produce evaluations on various new investments. She loved learning through her projects, meeting new people, and putting together the final product. There had even been talk of a promotion. She saved, but treated herself every now and again. She wished she had saved more.

She wrinkled her brow, and waved in acquiescence as a tall figure said something about sitting down next to her. Her eyes were trained on the screen, willing herself not to look away. The last email was from the university admissions office in Chicago.

As the job search was still proving unsuccessful, Jason, of all people, had urged her to think about grad school. He had even offered to help her pay for it. Jason, the guy who barely finished high school. She couldn't help but smile at the thought. And said a small thanks to God for giving her him as a brother.

The admissions office said that she could transfer up to 4 credits from an outside, reputable institution. She looked again at the wording. Industrial organization was a methods intensive degree. It was the perfect combination of econ and psych, but was still uncommon enough to make it different than your standard MBA. If she could take a couple of courses at LSU, she could save some money before transferring to a better school.

She wished she could talk it over with Bill. He always had an opinion or insight. Granted, often she disagreed with him, but she still always felt like she could talk to him. It had been eight months, she reminded herself. _He didn't want to be with you_. _Being with you was too much compromise from how he wanted his life to be_. She knew Bill would never change, but the knowledge that it was over still clawed at her. They had been good together. For most of it, she had been happy. If she had just gone along with what he wanted...

She didn't want to be that person though. Resolved, for the third time that week, to get out of the post breakup rut, she focused.

The inbox unread count flashed to (1) as she was re-reading the final part of the email. Without thinking, she started moving her mouse towards the inbox button...

"Sorry, do you mind?" the stranger next to her asked, leaning forward with his laptop charger. His voice shock Sookie out of her bubble, and it took her a second to understand what he was asking. Oh! Of course. He wanted to plug his computer in, and the outlet was right next to her. She was an idiot. A rude idiot at that.

"Sure. Of course. I mean, let me just move a bit..." she shuffled over a bit, moving her bag, trying to give him room to move. He was a big guy, at least 6'4". His jeans clad legs stretched in front of him, and Sookie found herself thinking that he'd probably not even fit in her bed.

She caught herself. _Remember Alcide_. _Remember Bill, _ she told herself. Cute guys usually have pretty girl friends. Even if they are unattached, they probably don't want to be with her.

"Thanks," he said, smiling broadly at her. Involuntarily, she found herself smiling back. His face lit up when he smiled, she noticed, and little crinkle lines appeared around his eyes.

"I'm Eric," he said, extending his hand. Her southern belle training kicked in, and she reach out to shake.

"I'm Sookie. Nice to meet you."

"Cookie?" he asked, and she frowned. She hated when people called her that.

"No, _Sookie_," she corrected, turning back to her computer.

"No," he said, laughing. "_Sookie_, would you like a _cookie_? Sorry. Should have been more clear. I got an extra chocolate chip hidden fortune cookies. Do you want one?"

She blushed, and was sure her face was crimson red. He was just offering her a cookie, not messing with her name. A cookie would be nice. Granted, she had already finished her lemon cake. Then again, the shop's chocolate chip hidden fortune cookies were supposed to be delicious. More like a cookie sandwich, the small, macaron sized confection was two parts chocolate chip cookie, one part a creamy vanilla filling, and a secret message poking out the side. She did want to try one...

"Please: if both don't get eaten, Pam is going to be annoyed. And I just came from a huge brunch. You'd be doing me a favor."

His eyes seemed genuine. While Sookie wasn't sure who Pam was - a girlfriend? - a cookie couldn't hurt. She could always save it as a treat for later.

"Sure," she replied, annoyed at her own lack of eloquence.

"Thanks. Pam knows that sugar is my vice. I think she is deliberately trying to get me so stuffed that I one day just barf."

Sookie giggled, wrinkling her nose as she imagined the scene.

"Hey - don't laugh! There is a reason why I don't go out getting hammered or eating until I can burst. Me, throwing up, is a pretty awful thing." He made a mock wounded face at her giggling, which made her smile even more. He was getting under her shields, she knew, but for now, it felt nice. So what if he had a girlfriend? She could just be friends with him. She could just enjoy these moments with him. The world didn't have to end.

"Throwing up is pretty awful for most people. I don't think you are special in that regard," she told him. His face dropped.

"Are you telling me my mother lied? I'm not super special and completely different from everyone else?" he said, wounded. "And here I thought that everything about me was unique. Oh Sookie, slayer of dreams and illusions..."

"Oh, you're special alright."

He raised an eyebrow. "See, that's a much sweeter thing to say."

She raised an eyebrow back. "Not especially."

Eric broke first, a grin plastered itself on his face. "You're different. You from around here?"

Sookie hesitated, her uncertainties rushing back. She wasn't exactly from Shreveport, but Bon Temps wasn't far away. "I grew up not too far from here," she vaguely replied.

"Very nice. I'm just here for a couple of weeks visiting Pam. I'll admit, its much nicer here than I was expecting. People are really friendly." He gave her a long look, which made her feel warm and unsure all at the same time. She couldn't figure him out.

"It's the South," was all she could think to reply.

"No kidding. And here I thought I was in Canada."

"A common confusion in these parts."

"I can see why. This place, like Canada, has a lot of loons."

"And," she added, "like Canada, we like our fried dough. Beignets, meet doughnuts."

"I'm going to die from a diabetic coma here, aren't I?"

"Only if the gators don't get you first."

They did talked for a while. Eric had apparently just been in Montreal for a couple of weeks, _"better than Paris_", had lived in New York, had recently gotten out of investment banking, and had come to this particular coffee shop because Pam had told him to stay here until she came. Plus, he explained it was the only place that served decent tea. He didn't even like coffee, much to Sookie's amazement. She told him the story of how she had brought an extra large travel mug of coffee to her SATs, and the proctor had threatened to make her leave it outside, lest it somehow help her cheat. It wasn't until her homeroom teacher came by and explained that Sookie _had to_ have coffee to function that she was allowed to start.

They settled down into an amicable silence, and but Sookie couldn't focus on her computer. She found herself wondering how much she should tell him. Should she tell him that she was unemployed, well, _under_employed, waitressing to make ends meet? Then again, who cared? She'd probably never see him again. Might as well just enjoy the friendly conversation.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted them. Bill's parents. _Shit_.

Bill's parents had always been very sweet to her. Wealthy in an area where most people didn't have a rainy day fund, let alone a retirement fund, they spent half their time at the family estate in Bon Temps, and half in New Orleans. At first, the family had welcomed her with open arms.

It was during their first Christmas that the cracks started to appear. Sookie had left from her Gran's on Christmas morning to spend the day with Bill and his family. As the time neared for the annual Compton Christmas Day family photo, Bill pulled Sookie to the side. Softly, he explained that the photo was for family only, and that his family would be more comfortable if she waited in the kitchen. The photo was for family only, after all.

If Sookie hadn't seen the three earlier Christmas photos in the photo album that Caroline Bellefleure-Compton had proudly shown her, it wouldn't have stung so much. But in that moment, all Sookie could think of was the smiling face of Lorena, Bill's ex, in each picture. The ex he still kept in touch with. The one that she had never met.

Sitting in the Compton kitchen, she tried to rid the anxiety and sense of disappointment from her body. She grabbed one of the Christmas cookies from the tray. When she had helped Mrs. Bellefleure-Compton make them, the old woman had told Bill, "she's a keeper, this one."

The faint voices sounded almost like whispers at the time, but with the stress in her system she could hear them loud and clear. She moved closer to the kitchen door, and heard Bill's parents in the hall in animated discussion. It didn't take her long to figure out that they were talking about her. Her dress made her look fat. That it was unfortunate that Sookie came from such a low status family. That Bill could do better, but they might be able to mold Sookie into something a bit more refined. That if only she would move from Methodist to Baptist. _We still pray to the same God_, she had wanted to yell, but instead found herself reaching for another cookie.

Almost in tears that evening, she told what she had heard to Bill. He listened carefully, before explaining to Sookie that she must have misinterpreted his parents. That they loved her. They gossiped, sure, but they did it from a place of affection. Bill's warm embrace had comforted her that night. However, she never felt like she could trust his parents again. Whatever nice words they said to her in person, there could be a hundred less flattering things said behind closed doors. Sookie couldn't bear the idea of that.

She definitely didn't want to see them today. This wasn't her best outfit, and her hair was in a messy bun. They'd inevitably ask what she was doing these days, and she'd have to tell them that she was out of work. No, she didn't want to talk to them. She couldn't hide in the bathroom, and the coffee shop's open layout didn't exactly leave any hidden corners...

Taking the only option, she bent down, pretending to look for something in her bag.

"Need a pen? I've got one here," Eric said, extending a black ballpoint pen to her. "I've even got paper."

"No, I'm good. Just... looking for something," she said lamely. What could she say she was looking for? She hadn't brought her library books. And she had just turned down his offer for a pen. Her phone was on the table.

"Need help?" he said, his face coming down to her's. Nose to nose, and bent down, she huffed a piece of hair out of her face.

"No. I'm fine."

"Yes, you are," he said with a slight leer and a wink. "But seriously - do you need help?"

"No, I'm fine," she said again, getting annoying. One person digging through a bag is normal. Two people draws attention. Couldn't Eric just go back to whatever it was he was doing?

"_Sookie_," he said in a voice that made her breath catch. "If you want to bring your bag up and take things out, I can clear off my table."

"_I'm fine,_" she whispered harshly. "Just... just let me be."

Instead of being annoyed by her rejection, his smile grew even wider, like that of a Cheshire Cat.

"You're _hiding_ from someone," he said confidently.

She glared at him.

"Who is it? That big fat guy over there, with the beer belly? Or, on second thought, that might be a pregnant woman. Hm. How about those teenagers? Did you make fun of Justin Bieber or something, and now they are out for blood? Or the Snoop Dogg wannabe by the window, who is rapping along with his iPod? I think someone forgot to tell him that he is, in fact, _not _ the shit."

She stifled a giggle at his descriptions, until she could tell his eyes were on Bill's parents. His entire body stilled.

"Those old timers? They've got you playing hide-and-go seek? What did you do, help shove that stick up their asses?"

"Shhh!" she shushed him, but he was determined to continue.

"They look like their faces are filled with plastic. At some point, isn't it the plastic surgeon's duty, as a doctor, to tell the person that they are going to look like shit?"

She bit her lip.

"Let me guess, you dented their overpriced car, and while they never got your license plate, they saw you. Ever since, you have been on the run, changing your name, never staying in one place too long..."

"Will you be quiet?" she practically begged, yanking on his t-shirt.

"Why of course. If you tell me why you are hiding from them."

She weighed her options. She'd probably never see Eric again, so why not tell him? It was far better than being discovered by Eric's parents.

"Fine."

He grinned.

"Their son is my ex."

He looked at her confused. "That's it? That's why you are hiding? Mr. and Mrs. Stick-Butt managed to procreate, and you were smart enough to get rid of him? Sookie, that isn't something to hide from. In fact, that is something you should be proud of."

"It wasn't like that." She had to make him understand. Most of all, she _wanted _Eric to understand. "Bill was... We were planning on getting married. But his parents wanted me to change... and I wanted to have my own career. It was long distance. It was... Well, it didn't work out the way I wanted."

Eric looked at her seriously, and Sookie wished she knew what he was thinking.

Eric slowly guided her back up to a sitting position, and brought his lips close to her ear. For a second, Sookie just enjoyed the feeling of another human being so close. One of his hands grasped hers. On some basic level, she closed her eyes, hoping that if she couldn't see anyone, they couldn't see her.

"Sookie, I'm going to do something. And I need you to trust me. Can you do that?" he said softly, his breath ghosting across her skin.

Sookie nodded, her eyes still closed.

Eric's hand reached forward, touching her face lightly. His other hand came up, and gently cupped her face. Sookie felt like she could barely breathe.

His lips were soft, she realized as they touched hers. Firm, determined, and with a hint of a smile. He slowly kissed her, his hand around her face bringing her closer. Her arms instinctively reached around his neck, pulling him towards her.

He nipped at her lower lips, let his tongue dance forward. She opened her mouth, feeling like she was drowning and he was the only thing keeping her afloat. He threaded his fingers through her hair, her messy bun coming undone, and before she knew it, he parted, panting in front of her.

"That was _definitely_ not Sookie. Did you see that man she was with? Never would I ever..." their words faded away as the door closed.

"You were distracting me," she stated, still afraid to open her eyes. What had just happened? Wait, didn't he have a girlfriend?

"More like obfuscating the situation. People don't want to look too closely at a couple kissing, so it seemed the most effective method for you to hide in plain sight. And," he said, running a thumb over her lips, "I can't say there wasn't something in it for me."

Sookie opened her eyes, and found him gazing intently at her. It made her feel bold, and confident. She liked Eric, and that kiss was something else. Something about this messed up situation made her feel like Sookie Stackhouse, a woman with potential. Not normal Sookie. Like something more.

Yes, the universe was toying with her. Losing her job. Losing her fiancé. Being kissed.

For the moment, however, she didn't mind one bit. She reached forward and pulled him towards her, kissing him with her whole heart.


	2. Eric

CH and HBO own everything. I'm just playing around in their sandbox.

Un beta'ed, so all mistakes are my own.

* * *

Eric was worth exactly $2.31 million dollars. Well, technically a couple of thousand dollars more.

It was ridiculous.

28, and enough money to be well off. He could buy a house, and live a comfortable, modest life. Eric knew, however, that even though it was a lot of money by anyone in this town's standards, it wasn't a lot. It was easy to lose $2.31 million if you weren't careful. He would know.

Two years ago, Eric had been living the dream in New York. He had been recruited out of college into investment banking, no small thanks to his dead father's reputation. The old man had practically spent all of his own self made wealth before his death, but his name still carried weight.

Eric had made a small fortune for his firm, like everyone else. Everyone made money from the same principles, and he helped sell REITs, bundle subprime loans, take increased risk, invest in commodities... The market can survive anything, his boss Russell Eddington had told him. Whatever is happening in the world, the market can find a way to make money and grow. The invisible hand always corrects any imbalance.

He was naive enough to believe it. When 2007 hit, he thought it would self correct. Russell brushed it off as a few fools being cleared out of the system. 2008, and Eric stood by Russell as they assured their clients that _their_ assets were safe. Early 2009, and he walked into the office to find everyone gathered in one of the slick, glass conference rooms. They were over leveraged, Russell informed them. What they had left was worthless. It was over.

Eric had been lucky, in many ways. He got a new job at Barclays. He had saved some money. He didn't have too many obligations.

Mostly, he was lucky because he hadn't done anything that could be tied to the collapse of the firm. Several suits were filed against Russell by disgruntled former clients, but Eric was safe from every single one. It wasn't because of skill, or honor. Eric knew the truth. He was just lucky this time. Next time he might not be.

A few years later, the high he used to get from making money grow was gone. The whole process felt self inflated, and mechanical. He began actually using his vacation days. He took sick days. After six months of this new pattern, his boss told him to quit, shape up, or be fired.

Eric quit the next day.

Four months on, and the numbness was finally gone. He was staying with Pam in Shreveport for a few weeks, before heading up to Chicago. He was going to open a bar. He was going to make money by giving customers something they wanted, and charging a fair price. No more making something from nothing. No. Eric was going to work hard. He might never be rich again, take nice vacations, or eat in nice restaurants. And that was ok.

Pam understood where he was coming from, and was determined to get him to snap out of his funk. She brought him with her that morning, telling him that it wasn't good for him to just sit around. It was 4:30am, a god forsaken hour, and she had practically stuffed a bag for him to bring with him. Her bakery business delivered to half a dozen different places, and when they reached the _Brooklyn near Bossier_ cafe at 10am, she kicked him out.

"You need to work on that business plan. You need to interact with regular human beings. And, for fuck's sake Eric, I need get some work done. Now, give these nice people their extra order for today. I'll be back later tonight." She drove a few feet, before stopping. "And they have tea. The kind you like. I checked."

"Yes, mom," he had replied, giving her a mock salute. She just rolled her eyes, and drove off in her minivan, _Pam's Patisserie_ scrawled in pink on the side, with the helpful description _cupcakes, pies, cookies. Everything you need to keep life sweet_.

Eric was convinced that his 5lbs weight gain was from this past week's sampling of her baking. If anyone had told him as a kid that his sister would be a successful baker, he would have laughed. But Pam had a knack for the stuff. After she had won an episode of _Cupcake Wars_, she had even started shipping nationally.

Eric walked into the coffee shop, giving the box of goods to the guy behind the counter who seemed relieved to have new supplies. The fedora clad man began quickly refilling the display cabinet in an careful artfully messy way. The place did remind him of a lot of places in New York. Independent, passionate about food, and the overstuffed bulletin board showed that the community liked this place.

For once, he felt like he would be following in _her_ footsteps, instead of the other way around. She seemed to have things pretty figured out, so why not?

He looked around at the small building. He enjoyed cafes like this, even if it was usually frequented by people who were stuck up and avoiding Starbucks. Starbucks was what made these places possible, he wanted to tell them. Starbucks brought fancy coffee and teas to the US, and made it part of everyday life. What other company could normalize a $3 cup of coffee in northern Louisiana?

He ordered a cup of Assam black tea. As he pulled out his wallet to pay, he noticed that Pam had slipped a couple of the new chocolate chip cookies in his bag. Fortune cookies, or something like that. He smiled. She was definitely trying to pile on the pounds.

Looking for somewhere to sit, he quickly spotted the girl. Blond, curvy, and with lips that were a delectable shade of rosy red. Suddenly, for him, there was only one place to sit.

She barely acknowledged him when he asked if it was ok to sit down. Maybe she was one of those bitchy, self involved types. He had known, fuck, he had dated, many of those types. Usually Eric could spot them a mile off. Then again, maybe this girl was absorbed by her computer.

He got his laptop out, and realized that he needed to charge it. The girl still hadn't budged from her laptop, and couldn't help but notice the off center wrinkle line between her brows as she was reading something. It was cute.

Plugging in his laptop, however, did require interrupting her. He was pleased that, once you got her talking, she was actually pretty pleasant. She had a spark, even if it was clear that there was something on her mind, weighing on her. He had a rule about dating girls with issues, but with Sookie, _what kind of a name is Sookie?_... He didn't have a rule about being friends with them. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could relax.

_Is it her? Is it this weird town?_ Or was it just that he could finally shed the skin of Eric Northman, investment banker, and just be himself?

She bent down to look for something in her bag, but as the seconds dragged on, he decided to do the chivalrous thing and offer her his pen. Nope, didn't want it. Paper? No to that too... The way she was digging around in her bag, looking for something that wasn't there... Could she be... no, Sookie didn't seem like the person to hide from someone. Testing his theory, he offered her space to empty her bag. When she declined that as well, and her face was blushing a beautiful pale pink, he knew he had her.

"You're _hiding_ from someone," he said triumphantly. It made perfect sense. And no wonder she didn't want him drawing any attention to her. He smirked. Who could she be hiding from?

Really, given the cafe's other patrons, he should have pegged the old couple from the beginning. A former employer, perhaps? Family friend? Maybe Sookie and the old man had... no. Not Sookie. He didn't even want to think about Sookie with someone else, especially not an old guy who was probably saw women as assistants and not equals. Eric knew the type all too well. After all, Russell had been pretty vocal about his opinions of women in the workplace.

Man, Eric was glad to be rid of Russell.

Sookie confirmed that it was the old couple, and he felt sorry for her. Realistically, she could probably hide, tucked down, pretending to look in her bag. But her position did make her ass stick out in a delicious way, and exposed a thin, smooth stretch of skin between her top and her skirt.

Eric knew of a way to conceal her identity. It was risky, sure, but it could work. But first he needed to know why she was hiding. He couldn't explain it, but if she had been fucking the old man, he just didn't think he could do it.

"Their son is my ex."

That was it? An ex boyfriend? Anyone related to Mr. and Mrs. Stuck Up was definitely not long term material.

"It wasn't like that," she started explaining, her eyes struggling to meet his. "Bill was... We were planning on getting married. But his parents wanted me to change... and I wanted to have my own career. It was long distance. It was... Well, it didn't work out the way I wanted."

The heartbreak was written all over her face, and he couldn't help but want to take her in his arms, and tell her that it was going to be alright. Maybe go up and tell the old couple that their son was an idiot.

Instead, he brought her back up to sitting, and took her hand.

He whispered softly in her ear, breathing in the sweet smell of her perfume. "Sookie, I'm going to do something. And I need you to trust me. Can you do that?" He hoped this would work. He really did. There was something special about Sookie, and all he wanted in that moment was to make her smile, to make her feel safe.

He felt her nod gently.

He brought his hands to either side of his face, and carefully kissed her. For a moment, she stiffened, but immediately began to melt into the kiss.

Kissing Sookie was nothing like he had imagined. She had become like oxygen, and only through kissing her did he feel like he could breathe. He was only barely aware of the old couple noticing them, then trying not to notice them... The plan was working. Then again, he didn't give a damn, because this kiss was, well, wow. This kiss was everything.

When he was sure that the old couple was almost out the door, he parted from her. She let out a soft little sad moan reverberated through his body. _Fuck_. He wanted to kiss her again.

"You were distracting me," she said, her eyes closed, her face flushed, and her lips deliciously plumb. Eric couldn't help by smile.

"More like obfuscating the situation. People don't want to look too closely at a couple kissing, so it seemed the most effective method for you to hide in plain sight. And," he couldn't help but run his thumb over her perfect lips, "I can't say there wasn't something in it for me."

She opened her eyes, and he wasn't sure what she was thinking. Her eyes were dark, stormy, and filled with unreadable thoughts.

She brought in him towards her, for another searing kiss. It felt intoxicating.

"Would you like to get a drink sometime?" he found himself blurting out. Damn, when did he turn into an awkward teenager again.

She smiled, and gave a pointed look at the drinks in front of them. Duh, they already had something to drink. But that wasn't what he meant. A troubled expression settled on her face, and she was biting her lip again. Was she regretting the kiss already?

"I mean like a date," he fumbled to explain. Shit. Usually he was more smooth than this.

"But, what about Pam?" Sookie asked, clearly feeling awful about something.

"What about Pam?" he replied. He took a drink from his tea, trying to collect himself.

"Isn't Pam your..." Sookie gave him a meaningful look, and for some reason he felt like he should feel guilty about something.

"My...?" he asked, clearly not getting it. Sookie waved her hand in circles, urging him to finish the sentence. "...sister? I don't think she cares if I go on a date or not. Unless she called dibs."

"Your sister?" Sookie asked, clear relief on her face. Wait, did he think that he and Pam were a _couple_? Ewww. He didn't even want to think about that.

"Related genetically through parents, yes. At least that what I have always been told. To be honest, I do wonder sometimes."

"Oh," was all Sookie said, slumping a bit. "I just thought that a guy that looks like you would have a girlfriend."

A guy that looked like him. Eric grinned. "Sookie, are you saying that you are attracted to me?"

"I don't exactly try to kiss unattractive guys," he heard her mutter. Maybe he hadn't screwed this up after all.

"So, about this date. When works for you? I was thinking maybe tonight?" he said, determined to get this locked in. There was something about this girl. He didn't need to think about the future or the world around them. No, for now he just wanted to get to know her. She made him feel good being him.

"Date?" she asked again, but a small smile tugged on her lips.

"Me wear something dark and nice. You wear something slinky and red." He didn't even know what there was to around here. What did people here do for dates - dinner and a movie? No, this needed to be something more than that.

"Something slinky, you say?" Sookie responded, looking bemused. "I don't think I have anything like that with me. But if its something slinky you want..."

He grabbed her wrist. Dinner, lunch, coffee. Whatever. He wanted to see more of her, and that was all that mattered. "You can wear nothing at all, if you want to. I certainly won't complain." She giggled at the implication, but her eyes blazed at him with an energy that made him shiver.

"I'm going to be in town for tonight, and then be back next week," she said, thinking. "This weekend can work too. I'm usually out in Bon Temps, which isn't too far from her."

"Tonight," Eric decided. There was a burger place he wanted to try, and somehow he could picture Sookie puckering her lips around the straw of a milk shake. They set the time -7pm- and place - he'd pick her up- before he let her get back to her computer.

He'd go buy her flowers. He'd bring her chocolates. What did people do here? In New York it was simple: go to the most expensive restaurant you could afford, get drinks, and maybe end up in bed. But the new Eric Northman wasn't going to be like that.

Sookie let out a small squeal next to him.

"I got an interview!" she said, her joy quickly subsiding. "I mean, lots of people get interviews. Besides, it is in Chicago, and doesn't pay a lot, but it could be a good job." She fades out a bit at the end, and bites her lip again.

"That _definitely_ sounds like something that should be celebrated," he told her, gently guiding her face back to look at him. _Heck_, if this girl ended up in Chicago, there was no way he was going to pass her up.

Karma, he decided. He trying to be a better person, and the universe was rewarding him for it. And damn it, he was going to work to earn every good thing in his life. For once, he would deserve happiness, and not just buy it.

* * *

Thanks to everyone who is reading! I'll admit, this chapter was going to go really *really* dark, but its been a long day, and I felt like there should be some happiness instead.


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